Whistle
by Luke1
Summary: I wrote this about five years ago, and never posted it here! Nonsense about drunk teenage Luke, grouchy, unattached Han, and something about trying to get a ball out of a whistle. T for themes. Just the smallest bit slashy. Smallest ever.


Luke had this way, Han had noticed, of being very held together and happy-go-lucky until he was drunk. Then all bets were off. In fact, Han was starting to think that he shouldn't drink at all. The first time had been fun for a few hours, because the kid was so damn green and would have done anything to impress Han, including taking shots of Corellian rum. Han smiled to himself. Okay, the first time had been fun for him. Or funny more like. Probably not for Luke, though. But since then, as soon as he was drunk enough to start thinking too hard, it was Biggs-is-dead this and I-killed-so-many-people-when-I-blew-up-the-Death-Star that, and sometimes teary big blue eyes with the pupils all shrunk from alcohol so they looked even bigger and bluer. As much as Han hated to see him upset–though he'd never admit it, it stabbed at him to see Luke's eyes glass over–it was annoying as hell. The only thing anyone could do for Luke when he got like that was give him something to keep his mind and hands busy. So, because Han wasn't looking to babysit tonight, he found the kid an old-fashioned whistle in a pile of junk in the back of the ship and gave it to him, leaving him sitting at the Falcon's holochess table while he went looking for some...more adult companionship. After all, this was their only night on Corellia, and he had some old friends still kicking around.

When Han came back it was with a girl he'd known years and years ago, a blond woman who managed to be both brash and demure at once. He didn't plan on sleeping with her, not tonight. Not ever again. That road was more trouble than it was worth with her. Her name was Taya.

"Is this going to take long?" Taya asked as they boarded his ship, clearly annoyed.

"No, I just wanna check on someone. Make sure he isn't doing anything stupid."

Stupid is a matter of opinion. When Han had spoken, he meant a different kind of stupid then he ended up getting.

Luke was still playing with the whistle, but he wasn't blowing it or anything. He was looking through the openings in it–it looked like he was trying to pry something out.

Han sighed. "What you doing?"

"Ball inside," Luke replied absently.

Torn between exasperation and laughter, Han retreated to the cockpit and gave into the latter as soon as he was out of Luke's earshot. Taya followed him. "What's so funny?" she asked, regarding Han, still laughing, in the captain's chair.

"He's trying to get the ball out of a whistle," Han managed. He shook his head, calming down. "I don't get it. Most of the time he's really easy to entertain, and he does so many stupid things, and then every once in awhile, he'll say something really smart."

"Sounds like a teenage boy to me," she answered, leaning against the doorway and looking down the hall to a barely visible Luke still playing with the whistle. "How old is he?"

"Eighteen."

Shaking her head, Taya asked, "Where in hell did you pick him up? And why?"

Han thought she was making fun of Luke, and though Han was all for making fun of Luke, he was the only one who got to do it. "Tatooine. And he's got his good points. He's real good in a fight–"

"How about in bed?" Taya asked, still watching him.

Han didn't know whether to be more shocked by the fact that Taya thought he would know how Luke was in bed, or by the fact that she wanted to know. He frowned up at her, taken aback. "What?"

She shrugged, but shook out her long hair and adjusted her clothes as if preparing. "I like 'em young."

Trying to suppress his instinct to be protective of Luke, Han said dryly, "That's creepy. He's half your age."

"He doesn't know that." She flashed a smile at Han. "I'm going to go talk to him."

She was out the door before Han could stop her. "Yeah, maybe you can help him get the ball out of the whistle!" he shouted after her.

She left him alone, to sit in silence and wonder why he felt so protective of Luke. He was fairly sure Luke was a virgin, and part of him wanted to make sure that when Luke finally did have sex, it was with someone who would treat him right. After all, the rational side of Han added, if Luke went and got his heart broken it would be Han who would have to take care of him and help pick up the pieces, and from then on every time Luke got drunk it would be she-broke-my-heart this and I'll-never-love-again that. That sounded like a lot of fun.

On the other hand, she could have him. It might be good for Luke to get it over with, and for it to be with someone who knew what she was doing. Taya knew what she was doing.

Han shook his head. No, she knew too well, and it would just screw the kid up in the head even more than he already was. Resolved to put a stop to her conquest, Han rose and hurried to the holochess table.

Only to find them already kissing.

Han grabbed Taya's shoulder and pulled her away before he could check himself, before he knew what he was doing. She frowned in protest and said, "What the hell are you doing?"

Luke didn't say a word, just held the whistle tightly in one hand and stared at the table through dark blond eyelashes, blushing.

"What are you doing?" Han asked, angry at her and getting angrier. "I'm not gonna let you take advantage of a drunk kid like this."

Taya visibly clenched her teeth. "I'm not taking advantage of him. I think it's up to Luke, anyway." She turned to him. "Luke, do you want me to go?"

He met her eyes briefly and stayed silent, but it was obvious he had no desire to keep her around. In fact, he looked terrified of her.

Taya left in a huff, and Han let out a breath in relief, wondering why so much adrenaline was going through his system. Sure he wanted to keep Luke safe, but what the hell was he so afraid of? He felt jealous, he realized, but shook his head and refused to fully admit it. There was no way he was falling for some starry-eyed boy who tried to get balls out of whistles. "You okay?" he asked softly.

Luke nodded. "Thanks for making her leave." He smiled cautiously up at Han. "She was scary."

Han smiled in return. "Believe me, I know." He sat beside Luke and gestured to the whistle. "Any luck?"

Luke laughed. The incident must have sobered him up some. "I know I'm not going to get it out, Han!"

Han laughed in return, relieved to see some semblance of coherency and sense coming back to Luke. Come to think of it, there was more sense and maturity to Luke every day, and he was quickly becoming someone who Han could see having a real equal friendship with one eventually. For now, though, Luke needed taking care of. Luke was still a little boy.

Sighing, Luke lied his head on the table and groaned, "I think I drank too much."

Shaking his head, Han teased affectionately, "Lightweight. Come on, kid. You should go to bed."

Luke nodded and followed Han obediently to the crew quarters. He got undressed down to this pants and sunk into his usual bunk drunkenly, but instead of going to sleep he stared up at Han with pleading eyes. "Will you stay?" he asked in a whisper.

Han swallowed, trying to remember the last time a spend-the-night offer had made him so nervous, especially an innocent one like this. "You want me to?"

Luke nodded, scooting towards the wall to make room for Han on the narrow bunk.

Han pulled off his boots and climbed into bed next to Luke, resolved to only stay until he fell asleep and then to head back out into the Corellian nightlife. After all, the night was still young and he wasn't looking to babysit.

But, Han realized, though Luke trembled at his touch and had wide, scared eyes, he wasn't a child.

Luke only hesitated for a moment, then snuggled into Han's chest. Han held him tightly to stop his trembling, marveling silently at how perfectly he fit in his arms–he was so small. Without really thinking, he kissed Luke's forehead, and then regretted it because it might scare the poor kid. But it didn't–Luke just snuggled in tighter. "Sing to me," Luke pleaded softly into Han's chest.

Bemused, Han asked, "What?"

"Sing to me," Luke repeated, unabashed.

Han knew Luke probably wouldn't remember it in the morning anyway, so he sang him the first few lines of a Corellian lullaby. He stopped as soon as it was apparent the boy was asleep, which didn't take long.

As hard as he tried, Han couldn't bring himself to leave. He could always come back to Corellia, but who knew how many more nights he'd get to hold Luke while he slept?


End file.
